


Don't Blink

by Winchester_girl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cute, Dean Fluff, F/M, reader's an artist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 09:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1738919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winchester_girl/pseuds/Winchester_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader's a really god artist and sketches amazing portraits and figures of Dean because she's secretly in Love with him. Dean manages to get a hold of her sketch book and she's really embarrassed by what he finds. Some cute Dean fluff</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Blink

You were in the hall watching Doctor Who—your favorite show besides Sherlock, and doodling in your art book like every other time you got a day off. You had your favorite spot on the couch that was the comfiest and the light hit the TV perfectly enough to not reflect back any glares. You pulled your knees up to your chest to support your art notebook and slid the charcoal across the book gently to start sketching. Sketching portraits was your secret that Dean never knew. It was one thing that relaxed you the most when you weren’t on the hunt with the boys. 

  
Sam and Dean knew everything about you, as you were practically raised with them at Bobby’s. Your mom and dad were great hunters but went missing when you were 13, and Bobby had taken you in. When you turned 18, you had snuck out of your bedroom and went on find your parents, hoping they were still alive after all these years. Dean had noticed you were gone, and he followed you and saved your life when you practically walked into a vampire nest with just a machete. That was when you realized that you and Dean could be more than just friends. He was 1 years older than you and you’d get jealous when you found him making out with the hot high school seniors in the janitor’s closet. Eventually, you started hunting with the boys and on your journey; you’d fallen in love with Dean. You never told him how you felt about him and he cared less to notice—at least that’s what you thought. Sam found out about your one sided love when he’d jumped on you from behind one day, and looked at your art notebook. The only thing your art notebook had was your love for Dean, expressed not in words, but sketches. 

You stroked the charcoal several times to draw the curves of Dean’s face. Your eyes were fixated on the shades that you gave him along with the tender lines that formed his beautiful eyes. Every time you looked at Dean, your eyes would capture every microscopic detail like a camera and you were able to put it on a paper. You drew his eye lashes—surprisingly to scale. You gave wrinkles to the side of his eye—which you had fallen in love with, since they showed only when he squinted his eyes and laughed his heart out. It was very rare, very precious. Once you gave his eyes the necessary shades they deserved, you had begun working on his lips. Oh, how you wished to lick them and nibble on them every time he stood close to you. Sometimes you felt like he’d do it on purpose, just to make you crave him as blood pumped through his lips, giving them a shade of maroon. You proceeded to draw a smile on his lips but you heard something,

“Don’t blink. Blink and you’re dead” You tried not to blink at the television as you heard the Doctor’s instruction to Sally Sparrow. Even though it was the millionth time you were watching that episode, you’d get zapped into it every time the Doctor said not to blink. You’d stopped working on your drawing and began sitting up straight—loosening your grip on your notebook.

“Got’cha” you heard a familiar voice from behind as your notebook got pulled away from your lap. You turned your head around to find Dean grinning at you.

“Finally” He said staring into your soul, “You know how long I’ve been wanting to see what’s in here?” 

Your heart had started pounding against the wall of your skin and you could hear the blood rushing through your veins and arteries as fear crept into you. You knew if Dean saw what was in there, it would ruin your friendship with him and never, in million years, you could think living without what you had with Dean. Your eyes widened as you jumped out of the couch to grab your notebook.

“Dean, give it back” You gave him a sharp glare—hoping he would give it back.

“Uh. No?” He tilted his face, gesturing the hard work he’d put into getting to your work. 

“Dean, that’s not funny.” You jumped again to grab the book but he put his hand up in the air so you couldn’t get to it. You weren’t short but not as tall as he was to reach his hand in the air. You tried standing up on the couch to take back your possessions, but he moved away—running towards the library where Sam had been researching. 

“Dean, I. Will. Shoot. You” you said in syllables trying to look mad and hide the embarrassment from when Dean actually flipped the pages. 

“No you won’t, I’m too adorable for that” He answered back with yet another grin. It was true—what he said. “It seems like everyone knows what’s in here except me and I wanna find out.” You wanted to scream at him for invading your privacy but he was right again, everyone did know about your notebook except him. Everyone could see the love that you had building up in your heart for Dean but he was far from it and you wanted to keep it that way, especially after hiding it from him for a decade.

“There’s nothing in there that you would be interested in.” You tried again, trying to run after him as he jumped around in circles around the table where Sam was sited. 

“Dean, would you please give it back? It’s hers okay? You’re invading her privacy.” Sam looked at his older brother, trying to convince him so he wouldn’t have to see your embarrassment. 

“Sammy, you didn’t think about that when you jumped on her few days ago, just to find out what was in in this damn book of hers?” he mocked his sibling as he pointed at the notebook. 

“Well, that’s because I thought there was something interesting in there. There’s nothing exciting about that notebook, just sketches of all the monsters we’ve hunted.” You felt uncertain if Sam was trying to help you or leading Dean into opening your precious and finding out the doodles. 

“Don’t you dare, Winchester” You shouted from across the table as Dean held the notebook in his hands and opened it to a random page. His eyes widened and his head jerked back a little as he took in the details that were drawn on the page. Your fingers rubbed the bridge of your nose as you turned around to hide your wet eyes. Sam threw his pen on the table and sighed as he leaned back on the chair—pouting at Dean’s actions. He looked at you with an apologetic expression and held your wrist while your back still faced Dean. You could hear the pages flipping and you couldn’t help but think about what he interpreted your sketches. A tear came falling on your cheek and Sam couldn’t help but talk to Dean,

“Dean, would you give that back to her you jerk?” and that was it. That was your breaking point and you freed yourself from Sam’s grip and stormed off towards your room, trying to control your tears. You tossed yourself to your bed, without locking the door to your room. You laid on your stomach with your hands below your forehead for support. You heard a knock on your door and you impatiently answered,

“Not in the mood Sam”

“Try again” You heard a voice answering from the door.

“Go away, Dean” You said in much calm tone, trying to make him believe that it didn’t have an Impact on you.

“Look, (Y/N), I’m sorry. I would have never looked at it if I knew how much it meant to you.” He said as he entered your room and sat next to you. You assumed that Sam had filled him in with how you felt—the moment he opened your notebook. 

“You’re a dick, you know that?” a shriek came out of your mouth that had a fear of losing him as a friend. 

“So I’ve been told.” He chuckled, lightening the mood. “You know you’re a really good artist. If you didn’t hunt, you could’ve made a profession out of this.” He tried to make you feel comfortable as your tears got absorbed by the sheets below you.

“Yeah right!” you mocked him, feeling like he was saying things just to make you smile. 

“No, I’m serious. Look, this one’s my personal favorite.” You heard the pages flip of the notebook which was filled with nothing but Deans’ sketches. You turned your head to see what he was trying to show you. Your eyes caught a glimpse of the sketch you drew weeks ago—the one where Dean held you tight in his arms, bending over you to kiss you. Your hands had cupped Dean’s cheeks and you were able to give a great, glowing texture to your and Deans eyes. Your heart jumped from its place when you heard it was Dean’s favorite. 

“It is really?” you asked as you looked up in his eyes. He had the same glimmer that you’d once tried to draw in the portrait of yours. Before you could think or have time to react to his confession, you found Dean’s lips crashing on yours. He cupped your cheeks, and he pulled himself towards you—desperately trying to taste every bit of your lips. You closed your eyes to enjoy the friction between your lips as his lips trusteed up your lower lip. You were almost out of breath and pulled away.

“Dean…” you moaned—almost out of breath, as his eyes opened up to see you. 

“Shhh. Just let me love you.” He shushed you and crashed his lips back into yours. You couldn’t believe that the person you loved, in secret, for more than a decade felt the same way about you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you. 

“You have… no idea… for how long I’ve wanted to do this. Kiss you… like you’re mine” He said, pulling away in between kisses—trying to catch his breath while talking and kissing you at the same time. 

“I love you, Dean!” You moaned out in his mouth—not wanting to pull away.

“I love you too, baby girl” He replied, pulling you into his lap without breaking the kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
